An Ovechkin in America

Act 3

Scene 2: A fancy NW Washington/ Georgetown restaurant. Subtle yet impressive floral and table arrangements. The room is dimly lit, and a hirsute Russian is sitting alone at a table for two. Soft jazz is playing and a waiter approaches.

Waiter
Is this your first time dining with us, Monsieur?

Ovechkin
Inaudible grunt.

Waiter
Pardon?

Ovechkin
Inaudible grunt. (Ovechkin pulls out what looks like several large bills and slams them on the table. A few flutter to the floor.)

Waiter
Ahhhh, sir we usually only request payment after the meal. Perhaps you’d prefer to hear our specials today. We have the veal scallopini, which is dressed in a most . . .

Ovechkin
Loud inaudible grunt. Meeeeeaat!

Waiter
Ah, yes. Ah, yes. Now I see. Our young gentleman would prefer a meat dish. Perhaps I may start you with an aperitif or a salad?

Ovechkin
Meaat. (Slams silverware onto the table. Ovechkin continues to avoid all eye contact.)

Waiter
Of course. How silly of me. An entrée . . .something with meat . . . right away for our hungry young bachelor. May I ask what type of meat you prefer?

Ovechkin
(Doesn’t speak. Marvels at the light as it reflects off the base of the salad knife.)

Waiter
Well, let’s try the basics. We have chicken then there’s beef . . . .

Ovechkin
Chicken. (He slams his fist, which is clutching a fork.)

Waiter
Of course, of course. Chicken. You made a great choice. Our chef, Francois, is renowned for his Coq Au Vin. Most delicious indeed. In fact the Secretary of State was here just last week and sent personal compliments to the ch . . .

Ovechkin
You bring me chicken. I kill with. (He points to the salad knife which he appears to be sharpening on a brass accoutrement bordering his chair.)

Waiter
I’m sorry?

Ovechkin
Chicken. Bring to me. I make food.

Waiter
I’m sorry sir but, we’ll prepare it for you. You can just relax, and have glass of wine. Perhaps I shall have the sommelier come by with suggestions.

Ovechkin
I make chicken.

Waiter
I see. Well, unfortunately all of our chickens are already dead. We only have the meat. Even if we wanted to bring you a live chicken, we couldn’t.

Ovechkin
You mean Alexzzander no kill.

Waiter
Ah yes, in deed. Alexander does not have to kill. You see in America it is custom that the restaurant handle all preparations for meat. Our patrons must simply enjoy our food and ambiance. May I ask where you’re from?

Ovechkin
RuuuSHA.

Waiter
Ahh, Russia. I studied in Saint Petersburg in my earlier years. (The waiter becomes preoccupied with his thoughts and is staring into the ceiling in an attempt to gather his thoughts.) Hmmm, it’s been so long. How do you say it. Let’s see. Ahh. What I want to say is ‘how are you’. But, in Russian. It’s, it’s . . .

(Ovechkin begins buttering bread with a fork and adding flowers and stems from the table's centerpiece. He eats bread, butter, flower and all. He looks around, and turns to the closest table. A middle aged couple are intensely discussing something. Ovechkin reaches over and grabs and handful of food from the women’s plated and forces it into his mouth. Much of it dribbles onto his clothes.)

Curtain